Coffee Mate
by JamesLuver
Summary: Modern AU. The best relationships bloom through simple, shared joys. Cover image by annambates.


**A/N:** This is a belated birthday gift for the lovely **Amy**. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to get it done in time. I feel so bad about that. :( But I hope you can enjoy it now anyway! Thanks for all your encouragement. :)

This was inspired by the following prompt at One True Pairing Ideas: _I tell my friends I come to the café you work at because they have the world's greatest milkshakes, but I love the little notes you leave me scrawled on napkins every time you take my order and you smile at me like the sun from across counter tops_. It doesn't follow this to the letter, but the idea for this fic grew around it.

(I see Anna and John as tea drinkers rather than coffee drinkers, but oh well...!)

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own _Downton Abbey_.

* * *

 _Coffee Mate_

It was his favourite place in the world to go and get a drink. A little off the beaten path, its rustic old bricks and open fireplace made it an inviting place to come. There were rarely any squalling kids, just other like-minded people who came to escape the bustle on the street. Quiet tranquillity was its most alluring point, and there was nothing John loved more than to settle down in the worn leather armchair in the furthest point in the room, laptop in front of him, a cup of coffee at his side. More often than not, he couldn't resist the temptation of one of the buttery biscuits freshly made every day.

"Good morning," the young cashier said brightly as he approached the counter. "Your usual?"

"Please," he said. "To take out this morning."

"Of course," she said. Was he being a vain, stupid old man, or had her tone fallen just slightly?

He paid for his purchase and stood at the end of the counter, watching her flit around the various bits and bobs as she put his drink together. He'd found himself doing that all too much recently, distracted by the sway in her hips and the brightness of her smile.

Perhaps he hadn't been honest with himself when he'd told himself that the best part about this particular coffee house was the peace.

She really was the loveliest woman he had ever laid eyes on. Anna, her name. He'd learned that in the brief conversations they'd had in between the busiest periods of the day. Anna. It was a pretty name in its unassumingness, and it suited her perfectly. She was unassuming too, her kind smile reserved for everyone no matter their age or background.

"I've an early meeting," he found himself hastening to explain. "You never know, I might need something more comforting afterwards."

"Like hot chocolate?" she offered with a smile.

"I've been told in good faith that there's little in life that can't be solved with chocolate. Now might be as good a time as any to test it out."

She giggled, the most musical of sounds. It brought a smile to his own face too.

"So I might see you later, then," she said, sounding hopeful.

"You might," he said. She held out his coffee, and he took it from her, their fingertips brushing. A bolt of electricity sizzled through him at the barest of contacts, and his breath caught. Had she felt it too?

What was happening to him?

Mumbling his goodbyes, he backed from the shop, suddenly glad that he couldn't stay. He hadn't felt like this for years, not since he'd first set eyes on Vera. Probably not even then.

The situation frightened him, but it was safe. He was far too old for someone like Anna, and damaged to boot. A visible limp was hardly attractive, never mind the demons he kept buried out of sight. No, nothing could ever come of it.

Still, there was a lump in his throat that not even his first swig of rich coffee could dissolve.

* * *

"Penny for your thoughts?"

He stirred, blinking blearily as Anna came back into focus. It was hard to make out her features in the shadows beyond his laptop screen; the lighting in the shop was dim at this time of night.

"I'm sorry," he said, rubbing at his temple. "I've overstayed my welcome. You should have kicked me out."

"It doesn't close for another hour," she said.

"You're tiptoeing around me. You could get a head start on tidying up and sneak an extra break."

"Don't let my boss hear you say that."

He chuckled. "Either way, I'm being a hindrance."

"You could never be a hindrance." The words lingered between them. John wasn't quite sure what to do with himself until Anna nodded towards his laptop. "You looked deep in concentration. Can you talk about it, or is it top secret?"

"Not secret, no. I work for a publishing house. I'm an editor, to be precise."

Anna's face brightened. "Are you? That's amazing!"

"You enjoy books, then?"

"I love them. Not that I've had much time to pick anything new up recently." He gave her an encouraging look, and she went on, "I'm a student in my spare time, if you can believe it. A bit of a late bloomer, but better late than never, right?"

"My mother often tells me that you're never too old to achieve something." Of course, his mother was often pushing him towards any eligible woman she knew in an attempt to prove it. "But you're not old."

"Twenty six," she supplied. "The oldest in the class. Everyone else is fresh-faced and just out of school. It's rather frightening."

"I can imagine." He often felt like that when he saw her. She was older then he'd initially thought, but he was still in his early forties, while she had barely reached her mid-twenties. "What is it that you're studying?"

"Therapy," she responded. "I want to specialise in helping people who have been in the armed forces."

"That's fantastic," he exclaimed. He debated for a moment, then added, "It's a noble cause. I could have done with some help after I'd been discharged. Of course, that was my own doing. I was a bastard back then. I wouldn't admit to needing help, and they all gave up in the end."

Anna's eyes widened. "You were in the army?"

"Afghanistan," he confirmed, tapping his cane. "This is the badge of honour I came away with." He couldn't keep the cynicism out of his tone, but Anna was graceful enough not to comment on it.

"I did wonder how that came to be," she admitted shyly.

"A bullet straight through the knee. I'm told they couldn't risk extracting it all, so there's still some shrapnel lingering around in there. If it moves they might try it, but until then I'm a cripple in society's eyes." He snorted humourlessly. "That or a benefits fraud."

Anna made an angry noise in the back of her throat. "That's disgusting."

He shrugged. "I'm used to it now. It was hard to stomach at first, but you numb to it." He shook himself. "Anyway, enough about me. Tell me more about your studies."

She glanced at the clock on the wall, a bashful, pleased smile on her lips. "I ought to get back to work. I've wasted enough of your time, and I'd better not let anyone catch me talking if they walk in."

"You could never waste my time," he told her. "And your boss isn't here to know. If someone comes in you can always serve them. Here, get yourself a drink and pull up a seat, if you want. I'm not getting anywhere with this tonight. You'd be a pleasant distraction." Realising his over-eagerness, he tried to backpedal. "But only if you want. Please, don't feel pressurised into saying yes. I can go if you'd rather. I wouldn't mind or be hurt, honestly."

Anna's smile was soft. "I'd like very much to sit with you awhile. But I won't take your money for a coffee."

"What if I ordered two and asked you to make one just how you like it?"

"You're impossible," she laughed. Her cheeks had pinked. She was beautiful.

"I take that as a yes, then?" he smiled hopefully.

"It's a yes," she said. "Just as long as I don't get caught."

"I'll vouch for you and take the blame," he said. "If I get banned, you can slip me coffee through the back door."

She laughed, and it was truly the most glorious of sounds. John found himself glowing.

In the weeks that followed, it became their ritual. When she worked the late shift on a Friday night, he would find himself lingering so that they could share an hour alone. It was never awkward or strange, and soon it became the highlight of his whole week.

As she beamed at him from over the rim of her coffee cup, he found himself thinking that this could be the start of a very good friendship.

* * *

It was more than friendship.

The next three months flew by, catalogued by each of their meetings, which were becoming more frequent. She'd told him her shift patterns, and he'd nervously started to follow them, afraid that he might be irritating her but unable to go a whole week between proper meetings. Each time, he was greeted by the most luminous of grins and eager conversation. She soothed him with everything she did.

He learned so much about her, too. She'd had a difficult relationship with her family, and that was part of the reason she was beginning to explore herself later on. She lived with her best friend, but felt guilty for doing so, since the money she earned from her job did little to cover much.

"I hate not paying my way," she confided one night. "I like to stand on my own two feet. My roommate really doesn't care since her father covers nearly all of the costs, but I feel guilty all the same. He has no obligation to me."

"I can understand what you mean," he replied. "But thinking a debt is owed is not helpful to anyone. Believe me, I know."

"Because you felt you owed a debt to someone?"

"Because they felt they owed one to me. They didn't, not at all. But it's always there, the elephant in the room. I don't like it."

Anna looked at him curiously. He deflected it with a tired smile. Not today. He couldn't recount those tales today. She seemed to understand. They moved on.

Every day that passed, he found that he knew her more intimately. Her hopes, her dreams, the life she lived.

It was not always a welcome feeling, but he told himself that it was all right. She flirted a bit, but that was harmless. He could make a good friend, but he was too old and dull to make a good lover. He was safe.

Until she asked him out.

Bold and unapologetic, she'd told him that she wanted to see him in a different environment, to expand outside the cocoon of the coffee shop.

"There's something between us," she'd told him. "I know you feel it too."

He did. An alchemy too strong to deny, something so magical that it went beyond the realm of simple chemistry between two people. And yet it could not be. He'd tried to deter her by letting her down gently, explaining that she was a wonderful woman, but she needed to dream of a better man than him. She'd defied him by stating that she couldn't dream of a better man because there _was_ no better man.

He'd tried to show her the flaw in her logic with all of his past sins and mistakes. She'd disregarded each one unflinchingly.

Which had led them to this. Walking round Downton's attractive park with Anna's hand clasped in his own—she'd made the first move—a picnic basket swinging from her spare arm. It had been her idea, and it matched her sunny disposition.

They had fun feeding the ducks, Anna almost crying with laughter as the geese flapped around him and scared him witless. They hired a boat to take out on the small lake, and he wobbled it threateningly while she shrieked. He bought them ice cream and they had a taste of each other's choices—he pulled a face at her sour lollipop and she laughed again. She'd made them a feast to feed an army, with sandwiches and crisps and cold pop and warm finger food wrapped in foil. She looked incredible, dressed in a white dress that reached mid-thigh, coupled with a denim jacket. He had to remind himself not to stare when the dress rode up as they sat together. He hadn't been brave enough to let her see his scars just yet, so had persevered with jeans even on the rare hot Yorkshire day. Anna seemed not to care, eyeing him in a way that made him blush.

He'd felt as nervous as an awkward teenager initially, but Anna had some mystic ability to put him at ease. Even with his doubts, he couldn't help but enjoy himself, dreading the moment they would inevitably part for the day.

"I've had a wonderful time," Anna said as they walked back to their cars.

"So have I," he admitted. "Thank you for inviting me."

"So it wasn't as bad as you'd feared?" she teased, nudging him.

"I never thought it would be bad," he protested. "I just don't think I'm right for you."

"We'll see," was all she would say on the matter. She unlocked her car and dumped her things inside. "Well, I suppose this is where we part."

"Yes," he said, before blurting, "unless you want a coffee first?"

A slow smile spread across her face as she looked towards the café he was pointing towards. Situated at the entrance to the park, it was the perfect place to go for food and refreshment if a picnic hadn't been brought.

"All right," she agreed without missing a beat. "Sounds great."

She took his hand again as they walked over. It was packed, but they managed to find a little table on the decking out back. John pulled out the chair for her and waited until she was seated before taking to his own. He picked up one of the sticky menus to peruse.

"What would you like to drink?" he asked.

"Just order me a black coffee. I'll doctor it to my liking then."

He blinked at her. "Do you know, I have no idea how you take your coffee. I feel awful now."

"Don't. I'm paid to serve you yours, not the other way around."

"Even so."

"Well, you can start learning now. I drink it with a touch of cream. No sugar. I need it strong and bitter to get me up first thing in a morning."

"The complete opposite to me, then."

"Pretty much. We drink our tea the same way, though."

"Reassuring. I've known wars to be waged over the treatment of tea."

She giggled. He left her to place their orders, and spent time painstakingly collecting all the necessary things so she could make it right before taking it back to her. He watched in fascination as she prepared it. She smacked her lips together after the first sip.

"Lovely," she said. "Thank you, Mr. Bates."

"You're welcome, Miss Smith."

They spent another pleasant hour together before Anna reluctantly glanced at her watch.

"I need to get going," she said. "I don't want to be rushing for work."

"Yes, of course," he said, standing. She took his hand yet again on the walk back to the car park. It was strange how quickly he had grown accustomed to the feel of her hand in his, the way that their fingers linked together perfectly. Strange, but exhilarating.

He walked her to her car, reluctantly releasing her hand so that she could forage for her car keys. When she'd found them she clasped her hands together in front of her.

"Thanks again for a lovely day," she said.

"My pleasure," he said. "I hope you did enjoy it, and you're not just saying it."

"Oh, believe me, Mr. Bates, I'm definitely not just saying it."

With that, she took a decisive step closer. John's blood began to thrum at once, the electricity between them crackling in his very body. He could smell her perfume, stronger now. The sweet aroma had been teasing him all day, and his head span, as if he was pleasantly intoxicated. She was stretching up on her tiptoes, he realised, her hands coming up to his shoulders to support her, her dress riding with it. He averted his eyes quickly from the new inches of creamy thigh, trying to focus on her eyes instead. It was easier now that they were almost on the same level. They burned with a sharp blue steel.

"I've never had a better day," she whispered.

The art of conversation seemed to have left him with her close proximity; he had been struck dumb. Anna didn't seem to require him to speak. In the next moment, she had closed the gap between them, meeting his lips with hers.

Heat flashed through his whole core. Her lips were so soft, so tender. He didn't think he'd ever been kissed like this before, not even at the beginning, when Vera had done all she could to seduce him. He felt guilty for thinking of his ex-wife when Anna was kissing him so sweetly, and he quickly pushed those thoughts away. Vera was the past. Anna, for reasons he could not fathom, was his present.

It didn't last for as long as he would have liked. With a final sip of his upper lip, Anna pulled away, retracting back to her heels. Her eyes were sparkling, and she tucked a strand of blonde hair behind her ear self-consciously. He'd never seen it down before, and he had to fight the urge to reach out and twine those strands through his fingers. They were fascinating.

"Thank you," she said again, and made to turn away.

He couldn't let her leave without him saying something. He'd been mute for too long as it was. If he let her go now, she might decide that she didn't want to pursue things. Which would be the right thing for her, because he was far from the kind of man that she ought to have. But, God help him, he needed her. Desperately.

"Would you like to do this again?" he blurted.

She turned back to him with a cheeky smile. "What, kissing?"

His cheeks burned with his embarrassment, but he fought through it. "Would you like another date sometime? I mean, please don't feel obliged to say yes."

"Mr. Bates," she sighed, interrupting him, "I thought you were never going to ask." Her expression turned mischievous once more. "And as for the other…yes. I'd like to kiss you again."

She raised her eyebrows at him. The meaning couldn't have been clearer. Swallowing hard, John took a step forward. He looped his arms around her waist, and she braced herself against his chest. It was frightening how right she already felt there.

She didn't allow him to linger on that thought for long, taking control and bringing her lips back to his. This time, he allowed himself to let loose. One hand left her waist to trail through the soft waves of her hair while she murmured her approval into his mouth. She tasted of coffee and sunshine, of better things still to come.

They made plans for their second date for the very next moment that she was free.

* * *

John woke with a start as Anna shifted. He turned over slightly, peering at the sight beside him. Anna, tousle-haired and pink with warmth, breathing evenly through her mouth, cuddled close to his side. It seemed that she had no qualms about sharing a bed. Well, she had told him that she was a heavy sleeper, that she loved her sleep. Smiling, he relaxed, closing his eyes to enjoy the fullness of her naked body beside him. It had been a very long time since he'd last had a woman in his bed, and he'd forgotten about the intricacies of sharing. His disturbed night of sleep at the unfamiliar sensation was nothing compared to how it felt to have her weight pressed to his side, her naked skin making him shiver every time it brushed against him.

Even in the warm light of day, it was difficult to get his head around. He'd spent the night with Anna Smith. She was so far out of his league, and yet for reasons unknown she seemed to like him a great deal. He was a lucky bastard.

Fragments of the last few hours came back with a startling intensity as she shifted against him once again, her cheek pressing tight to his chest. The curve of her breast brushed his side, and it stirred his lower half into life at once. He cleared his throat and cursed himself, trying to remember the alphabet it Dutch, a product of his time in the army. It wasn't proving to be a very good distraction. Everything seemed to leave his mind when he was near Anna.

He would have more difficulty than ever concentrating now that he'd properly experienced her. Before, while apart, he had daydreamed about the pressure of her mouth and the way that his hands fit so perfectly on her hips as they kissed. He'd imagined what she might look like under her clothes, a little guiltily, it was true, but he hadn't had any real knowledge. Now he did. Now he knew what it was like to hold her naked against him. He knew the exact shape and size of her breasts, knew the firmness of her thighs around his waist, what she sounded like as they moved together. How would he ever get any work done ever again? How would _they_ ever get anything done ever again? This new element between them had been electric, a hot bolt of pleasure that he'd never experienced before in his whole life. Judging by Anna's response, she felt the same.

He was brought back to his surroundings by Anna twitching against him once more. He held his breath, but this time her eyes fluttered open. It took her several seconds to focus on him, but when she did, the most beautiful smile that he'd ever seen made its way across her face.

"It wasn't a dream," she said contentedly, snuggling closer. He sucked in a breath as the silk of her skin rubbed sensuously against him. He was already sporting a semi.

"No, it wasn't," he said huskily, bringing his hand up to tangle in the hair that flowed down her back.

"God, I've wanted this for so long," she mumbled into his chest.

It took him by surprise. "Have you?"

"Of course I have. I fancied you from the moment I first saw you. You had soulful eyes and a kind face."

He snorted good-humouredly. "That's not exactly the usual remit for fancying someone. What happened to the face carved by angels and the body to die for?"

"Well, you have those things too," she teased, squeezing him knowingly. "But I prefer substance over style. You've got to take that as a compliment."

"I think you might need glasses, but I'll thank you all the same. I'm flattered."

"Flattered enough for another go if I try and seduce you?" she asked.

"Why don't you try it and find out?" he challenged.

She laughed as she rose. He gulped at the sight of her glorious body in the full light of day before she was on him, pressing him deliciously into the mattress, her mouth covering his. He was embarrassed by how quickly his arousal rose.

Soon, however, it was the very last thing on his mind as she kissed him breathless, her fingers ravishing his hair as he ran his hands over every inch of skin that he'd discovered the previous night. Thank God for her, he thought incoherently.

And then their increasingly passionate kissing was interrupted by a loud rumble. Anna pulled away with a giggle, falling back against the pillow.

"Sorry," she said. "My stomach has a mind of its own."

John took a deep breath, trying to tear his mind away from the throbbing in his lower half. "Shall we get a drink and then think about a bite to eat?"

"That would be nice." She was already burying herself back beneath the heat of the quilt. "You're making the coffee this morning. I make it for you every time you come by the coffee shop. I'd say it's about time you start repaying me."

He chuckled, leaning across to kiss her head. "If milady wants it, milady shall have it. I shall start repaying you now."

And he did, admirably, with his breakfast in bed policy, loading up a tray with toast and a generous Full English. Ravenous from their night-time antics, they polished the spoils off in no time at all, Anna declaring that it was the best thing she had ever tasted. John suspected she was just being kind—he had charred a fair bit of the toast and burned the edges of the bacon in his complete distraction at having Anna alone and naked in his bed.

After that, it didn't take long for their primal appetite to flare up again with heated urgency. With her nail's digging into his back and her loud moans in his ear, John thought he'd got off to a very good start indeed.

* * *

With the change in their relationship came changes to their routines.

Just the mere thought of Anna made butterflies swirl in a frenzy round his stomach. He couldn't stop the giddy smile from overtaking his face. He probably looked like a fool, but so be it. He _was_ a fool. A fool very much on the way to being madly in love.

Before, his brief time in the coffee shop had been the highlight of his day for a glimpse of her grin or a hurried, inconsequential conversation while she made him his drink. Nothing had changed that, but it was all the more galvanising to stand there and know that she was _his_. Six weeks into their relationship, Anna had brought up the idea of making themselves official. John had thought that he'd run a mile if any woman wanted to label him as her boyfriend after what he'd been through with Vera, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of Anna. So that was what they were now. Boyfriend and girlfriend. It sounded rather silly in his head, but it was a whole different matter when he was with her. He _wanted_ to introduce her to his friends as his girlfriend. The thought that she was eager to call him her boyfriend made him glow warmly, though he could profess to not understanding why she would want to.

Monday, gone from being his most hated day of the week, became his favourite because it meant that he would see her first thing in the morning. With no classes to get to, Anna always worked the early shift. Seeing her even for those brief moments set him up for the rest of the day.

He resisted the urge to tap his cane impatiently against the wooden floorboards as he waited for the man in front of him to fill his very convoluted order that consisted of breakfast for six people. While she listened to the customer, Anna shot him a secret smile full of mirth. It went straight through to his soul. She looked beautiful today, her hair tied back in the customary messy ponytail that she wore for work, her apron cinched tight at the waist, revealing the sexy curves of her body. He wasn't sure if it was arrogant to think that perhaps she'd done that for him. It was certainly proving to be very good entertainment while he waited.

At last, the man gathered his order together. Anna wished him a good day, and John stepped forward to take his place. The coffee shop was fairly busy this morning, and there were three more people behind him. He wouldn't be able to linger long today.

"Good morning," Anna greeted him with a knowing smile. "What can I do for you today?"

John had to take a breath to get himself back under control; the subtle seductiveness of her words was alluring. They hadn't taken that step forward in their relationship yet, but try as he might, John found it difficult to _not_ think about it, especially when he fancied her as much as he did.

"The usual, please," he managed.

"Of course," she said. He handed her the money and she rang it into the till before bustling about with quick efficiency to get him his beverage. When she was done, she held it out to him with a cheeky quirk of her lips. He reached out to take it. Their fingers brushed for a second, and then she withdrew. He felt the crinkle of paper against his fingers. She'd left him with a present.

It was all he could do not to run out of the shop so that he could sate his curiosity. Since attempting to run would do his knee no good, he managed a more dignified exit. He could feel Anna's eyes burning into his back as he walked away, so he kept his gait even and casual. It wouldn't do to look too much like an overeager puppy. It might put her off.

When he was well out of sight, he ducked down the side of a charity shop, sheltering in the alley. He set the cardboard cup by his feet so he didn't spill the contents, then opened the brightly coloured scrap of paper with trembling hands.

 _Good morning, gorgeous!_ Anna had written in her neat cursive. That was all. Just a simple message. But the words stuck with him all day, buoying his spirits. Even Thomas' nasty comments about his limp couldn't affect him today, not with the sincerity of Anna's words humming in his blood.

He'd thought that it would be a sweet little motif made in the spur of the moment. He didn't expect another note slipped into his hand the next time he went back.

 _Your smile makes me smile_ , it read.

The compliments didn't stop.

 _I like a man with strong arms._

 _Your chest is my favourite thing in the world._

 _Your eyes are beautiful._

 _You are perfect._

Three months later, he read the words that made his heart rise to the heavens:

 _I love you._

It was sealed in a pink heart, determinedly etched. They'd been sharing a bed for quite some time by this point, and the added intimacy had only made John wax more poetically than ever about her, his inner writer springing from his uncaged heart like a lion. He'd kept a tight leash on his feelings, not wanting to frighten her away, but in that moment, he knew that he never had to be scared again.

During the day, she texted him to say that she wouldn't be able to make their scheduled date that evening.

 _I hate cancelling_ , she'd written. _I want to spend my time with you. But I've had a call from work. They need someone to cover the evening shift. Gwen can't make it._

He'd texted back that, of course, he understood. She needed to do what she needed to do. But he was still concerned about her. She was pushing herself hard, trying to juggle the intensity of her workload and the hours of her job. She was burning her candle at both ends, desperate not to let anyone down. He still felt shy about voicing his worries, not wanting her to think that he was being overbearing, but perhaps it was time that he started to think about it. Her desire not to let anyone down was admirable, but not at the cost of her own health.

For now, all he could do was be supportive.

 _Don't worry about it,_ he texted back. _We can reschedule for another time. I'll see you soon._

On the way home, he took a detour to the coffee shop. He had no intention of lingering when she had so much on, but after the way that she'd opened her heart to him that morning, he didn't think that he could go without acknowledging it for another day. If the shoe had been the other foot and he had let the words slip first, he would have driven himself mad wondering if she felt the same if he didn't get an initial response.

He pulled up outside the coffee shop and made his way inside. Anna looked frazzled, darting about behind the counter like a mad thing. Her hair had gone slightly frizzy at the temples, and her ponytail was even messier than usual. She'd never looked more beautiful.

She managed a small, tired smile for him when he approached the counter.

"What can I get for you?" she asked.

"Just a small latté, please. I hope you don't mind me dropping in."

"Of course not," she said, tallying his order.

"I'm not stopping. I know you've got a lot on and I don't want to make you feel guilty. There are some things at home that I've been neglecting that I can get done now. But I thought a coffee would be the perfect thing to get me going."

"I think you've got the right idea. I've got a paper to finish when I get home. I'll probably need a hundred of these to get me through. I'll be wired by the morning."

John bit back his disquiet. Now was not the right time to express it. He didn't want to add to the pressure that she was already under. If she could afford to spare the time tomorrow he would invite her round and force her to relax instead. He'd shower her with attention, perhaps give her a massage to relieve the tension.

For now, he could wait.

He made a show of brushing his fingers against hers as he handed the money over. Her brow wrinkled, and he knew that she'd felt the slip of paper that he'd pressed under the ten pound note. He took the change she handed to him and picked up his drink, taking it out of the shop. Once settled in his car, he leaned back, trembling in eager anticipation as Anna glanced around her to ensure that no one was paying any mind. Satisfied that they weren't, she unfolded the note. John watched the pure, beatific smile stretch from ear to ear as she read the words that he'd written in his firm, looping hand.

Four words that were forever scoured on his heart.

 _I love you too._

* * *

"John, I need to speak to you."

John glanced up from where he was sliding his laptop back into his briefcase. "Does it have to be now? I've got to go."

"Yes, it does have to be now. We've got the Bricker deal to go over."

"You cancelled that meeting in the week. I can't do it now."

"Bates, we need to get it done. You don't do anything in the evenings so there's nothing keeping you."

He snapped the fastenings on his briefcase down. "Actually, I _do_ have plans this evening. I'm seeing my girlfriend."

Robert snorted. "Bloody hell, not that again. When are you going to drop that charade? If you've got a girlfriend, then I'm a giraffe."

"I've said it for six months now," he said mildly. "You know her name is Anna. Why would I keep up the charade that long?"

"How come I've never met her then?"

"She's busy, I tell you. She's either always working or at university. We spend her free time together." He shrugged. "What can I say? I prefer the idea of spending our time together completely alone."

"Dirty bastard," said Robert.

"We don't just have sex, you know. We do other things too." He couldn't help shooting his friend a cheeky look nevertheless. "But we _do_ enjoy having a lot of sex."

"A fantasist, that's what you are. Now come on, sit down."

John found himself beginning to feel impatient. He loved Robert like a brother, would have given his life for his friend's in a heartbeat, but he could be horrendously stubborn at times. "Seriously, mate, I have to go. I'm meeting her in a couple of hours."

"I won't keep repeating myself. We need to do this _now_."

John huffed, tucking his reading glasses into the top pocket of his suit. "Well, we're not doing it here."

"What do you mean?"

"If we've got to do this today, then I'm giving you two hours and no more. We can discuss it over coffee in the place where I'm meeting her."

Robert glowered at him before relenting. "Fine. Have it your way."

They packed up their belongings, and Robert tailgated him all the way to the coffee house. Thankfully there was plenty of space in the street, and they parked with ease.

"How did you discover a place like this?" said Robert as he approached.

"I like quiet spaces. This was ideal. It's very beautiful too."

John led the way inside. At the sound of the bell, Anna glanced up. She looked surprised that he was there so early, and overjoyed too. John was sure that he was grinning like a fool, but that didn't matter. Not when he was with her.

Her eyes widened when she realised that Robert had come in behind him. He diverted her curious look with the tilt of his head.

"What do you want?" he asked his friend.

"A fruit smoothie, I think. It fits the mood rather well."

"Get a table," said John. The place was still rather busy. Most people were commuters grabbing a drink on their way home, but a few of the tables were filled. Robert turned and made his way towards one of the window seats.

"Get us a chocolate brownie to go with it!" he yelled over the din.

John rolled his eyes and got in line. He shifted from foot to foot, excited to be in front of her again. It had been two days since he had last seen her. Now that she was nearing the end of her first year of studying, Anna's workload had spiralled. He understood her need for space while she got done what she needed to get done, but God, he'd missed her.

"You're a sight for sore eyes," he said softly when at last it was his turn.

Anna's grin was dazzling. "Thank you, Mr. Bates. We'll have none of your flannelling."

"I'm not flannelling. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. A creature of quicksilver and light."

"I see what you're trying to do. You're trying to sweet talk me into bed."

"I had a great many plans for this evening!" he demurred. "I was going to take you out for dinner and bring you flowers."

"And invite me back to yours, no doubt."

"Well, I might have tried my luck if the evening was agreeable."

She snorted. "Idiot. What do you want?"

He rattled off his order, and she began the preparations.

"So does this mean that this evening is off?" she asked as she selected the homemade brownies from the front cabinet—one for him, on the house, on account of being a lovely boyfriend. She glanced over at Robert. "It looks important."

"If it was important, he wouldn't have cancelled the meeting earlier in the week. He's just testing me. He didn't think you existed."

"Why, are you in the business of making up girlfriends?"

"Even if I was, I couldn't have conjured up one as amazing as you."

"You charmer. We've had quite enough of that." She drew closer, on the pretence of making sure he had everything balanced on his tray. "I'm very glad that the date isn't off. I've got some sexy lingerie at home that needs your approval."

He swallowed hard at the gleam in her eyes. "It sounds wonderful."

"Wait until you see it. Now go. Looks like Robert is getting impatient."

"Hook me out when your shift is finished."

"I will. I've been looking forward to meeting Robert properly, I have to say. Especially with him being Mary's father."

"Yes, let's not linger on that too much. It makes me feel incredibly old."

"Duly noted."

With one last smile, John returned to the table. Robert grabbed his smoothie and treat at once, spilling crumbs all over the portfolio he had opened.

Under his brownie plate, John noticed an edge of a piece of paper. Robert didn't seem to realise that anything was wrong, so John removed it discreetly, glancing down when he had it safely in his lap.

 _Ninety minutes to go…_ it read, the dots leading off suggestively. God, what she could do to him.

The next hour and fifteen was a blur of information as Robert bombarded him with facts and figures. John nodded absently, but his gaze kept getting dragged to her as she flitted around. At last, Robert set his pen down with a huff.

"Will you stop doing that?" he snapped.

"Doing what?"

"Making eyes at the waitress. You're supposed to be helping."

"I am."

"You'd better be. This is important. More important than you flirting with the waitress."

"I don't flirt."

"Not usually. But you were flirting with her. I couldn't bear to watch."

"She's pretty though, isn't she?"

Robert scowled at him as if he sensed a trap.

John held his hands up in innocent protest.

"Yes, she is pretty. And if you tell Cora I said that I'll kill you. I'm in enough trouble as it is."

Trouble of his own making, after he'd been caught kissing Jane, the pretty events manager. Robert had said that it was one moment of weakness. John believed his friend, and thankfully so had Cora. But he was still in the doghouse over the whole thing, and he was working hard to regain her trust.

The frown on Robert's face deepened. "Actually, she looks rather familiar."

"Does she?" said John airily, then moved the subject along while his friend regarded him suspiciously. "Anyway, you were saying…"

But even with Robert letting him know that he was well aware of his games, John couldn't keep his eyes from her. His Anna was so beautiful, darting gracefully through the crowd, not faltering for even a second. Her face was slightly pink from her work, and her laugh sent chills through his whole body. He couldn't wait for her shift to be over.

"Bates, for the love of God!"

He came back to himself with a bang. "What?"

"I've lost you _again_. You've been looking over there every few seconds. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. I can't help it if I find her pretty, can I?"

"You've got a supposed girlfriend at that."

"Yes, I have."

"Right," said Robert sceptically. "Now _please_ pay attention."

"All right, mate. Calm down."

Robert huffed. "She keeps looking at you now. It's putting me off."

John chanced a glance over his shoulder. Anna shot him a winning smile that he felt in his blood. He tried to keep his voice neutral. "Is she?"

"Yes. Bloody hell. We need to get out of here to continue."

"I told you, Rob, I can't. I'm meeting Anna any minute."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"Fair enough," said John, unable to keep the grin from his face. "Here she is now."

"What?" Robert turned around at once, coming face to face with Anna as she walked towards them, untying her apron.

"Hello, boys," she greeted them. "How are you?"

"Hello," Robert said dubiously.

"Hey," John said softly. He held his hand out towards her. She took it.

Robert frowned, looking between them. "What the hell is going on!?"

John pushed his chair back. Anna took the hint, settling herself over his good knee. She tucked herself under his chin, and they looked to Robert together.

"Robert," John began, "this is my girlfriend, Anna."

Robert swore loudly. "Shut the French windows! You're bullshitting me!"

"No bullshit," he said easily. "I told you I wasn't making it up."

"But-but _how_?"

"That's a question you'll need to ask Anna," he said. "I haven't the foggiest what I did to deserve someone like her."

"He was himself," was Anna's simple reply. "I was enamoured from the beginning."

Robert shook his head in wonder. "I can't believe this. Bloody hell. You were being honest after all. Wait until Cora hears about this. And the girls. They'll be thrilled for you. And they'll want to meet Anna at once."

Anna and John exchanged smirks.

"About that…" John said. "We're closer connected than you think."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"John means that I'm actually already acquainted with some members of your family," said Anna. "Your daughter, Mary, is my best friend. I'm the Anna who lives with her."

There was a loud clatter as Robert's smoothie slipped out of his hands and shattered against the table, sending liquid fruit arcing in every direction.

" _What!?"_ he yelped.

Anna reached out and began to mop up the spilled drink with quick efficiency. John smirked at his friend's shocked face.

"Start at the beginning," his friend demanded. "Don't leave out a single detail."

"I said we had a hot date tonight, Rob. We haven't got the time. There's a promise of a shared shower…"

"Balls to your shared shower! You're not leaving here until I know every detail, you scheming bastard!"

"More coffee?" said Anna brightly.

* * *

He'd been lying in the dark for hours. These days, it was a sensation that he was unaccustomed to. Usually Anna was vined around him, her warm weight pressing him into the mattress, her breath blowing soothingly against his cheek, or else curled protectively into the circle of his arms, both of them at peace with the world.

Tonight, their world had been at war, bullets fired and wounds re-opened. They didn't argue. That wasn't who they were. Perhaps that made it worse. When the fighting erupted, it was all the more dangerous.

He rolled over. The glowing numbers of the clock goaded him. Three thirty. He wouldn't be getting any sleep now. He probably didn't deserve the respite, not after what had happened.

It always came back to Vera, he thought resentfully. Even divorced from her, she could still ruin his life.

 _But it wasn't just her, was it?_ a silky voice in the back of his head whispered. _She didn't put those poisonous words in your mouth. That was all you._

He punched his pillow in frustration, ridding himself of the voice. His phone sat on his bedside table, and he couldn't resist the temptation to pick it up, sweeping the screen to unlock it. Anna's smiling face greeted him, he tucked in close behind her. She'd taken that photo herself on a day out in the Yorkshire Wildlife Park, and he'd never changed it. That was the day that she'd first voiced that she wanted to call him her boyfriend to the people in her life, and the idea that she wanted that had simply floored him.

There were no unread messages, no missed phone calls. He hadn't expected anything else. This was his mess to fix.

It frightened him. He'd been alone for so long. He'd never shared his life with anyone else since Vera. He'd never allowed anyone close to him. There had been some thoughts of letting loose once he was finally free from his ex-wife, but in the end his honour had won out. Base release would have been a diversion, but the notion of sleeping with a woman and then never seeing her again didn't sit right with him. If it meant that he had to be a monk for the rest of his life, so be it. It was nothing more than he deserved.

That had been before Anna. Before Anna had sawed her way through his iron bar defences and found his vulnerable underbelly. Before Anna had stripped him bare and exposed his beating heart to the world. He would never believe himself to be worthy of her, but her gentle belief made him think that perhaps they could make each other happy.

Until Vera had come back into his life, spitting and snarling and swearing that she would get what she wanted from him. And he'd lashed out at the only good thing in his life like a frightened dog. He'd hurt her like the devil he was. She'd kept her head high and told him that she wouldn't put up with being spoken to in that manner, but he knew he'd hurt her all the same. And he hated himself for it. She'd walked away without looking back.

Dropping back to the pillow, his finger hovered over the message button. It trembled as he tried to conjure up the words for an apology.

No words could ever be good enough, and certainly not through a cowardly text. In the end he typed, _Anna, please, call me when you get this._

It was unlikely that she would reply until the morning. If she even wanted to reply at all. For all he knew, this could have been the final straw. It might have made her wake up and smell the coffee, so to speak, might have made her realise that she'd been wrong to believe that he could ever be worthy of her. And if that was the case, then he would accept it. He could never be angry towards her, or blame her for anything. It would all be of his own making.

He'd only just placed his phone back down on the bedside cabinet before it started to ring. It startled him so much that it took him two attempts to grab it, and he jammed it to his ear immediately. No one else could possibly be ringing him at this time in the morning.

"Hello," he said breathlessly.

"Hey," she said. She sounded tired. Jaded.

Her tone broke his heart. He pushed himself into a sitting position, running his hand miserably through his hair. "Oh, Anna," he breathed. "I'm so sorry."

"So you say," she said.

"I mean it. Christ, I don't know what came over me. I was a bastard, and you did nothing to deserve it. I told myself that I would never be the man who cut anyone with my tongue again, but I suppose a leopard can't change its spots. I know words are cheap and I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to walk away now, but I swear I'll move heaven and earth to make you see how much I regret what I've done, and I will _never_ treat you like that ever again. I don't want to lose you, Anna." His voice cracked. "I don't ever want to lose you."

She was quiet on the other end of the line; all he could hear was the static, and the soft sound of her breaths. By contrast, he couldn't breathe. His very life hung in the balance. If she told him now that it was too much, that she wouldn't let anyone treat her like dirt, then he would respect her decision without question. But that would be the end of his life. There could never be anyone else like Anna, and he didn't think he could go on without her, knowing that she was building a life for herself that didn't include him.

"I need to speak to you face to face," she said at last. "I can't have this conversation through a telephone. I need to look into your eyes and see that you're telling me the truth."

"Tomorrow after work?"

"Can you come any earlier?"

"Whatever is best for you. I'd come any time you needed me to."

"So you'd come to me right now?"

"In a heartbeat," he said.

"Then come and see me now. Please. We can't let this fester."

"Give me half an hour and I'll be there."

"All right."

He hesitated for a moment, then said, "I love you."

He rang off before she could answer, not wanting her to feel as if her hand had been forced. He threw on his clothes as quickly as he could and made the journey across town. He made a pit stop at the twenty four hour fast food restaurant. Surrounded by drunks ordering greasy burgers to combat the inevitable hangovers, he ordered cheap coffee and bagels. Hardly the romantic gesture that he wanted to make, but that would have to suffice until he could do better, and they'd both need it to get through the coming day.

He knocked tentatively on the door when he arrived at Anna's flat, aware that Mary would probably be sound asleep. It wasn't ideal that they'd have to conduct this conversation with other people potentially present, but if it was what Anna wanted, then he would do it without a second thought.

She opened the door almost as soon as he'd finished knocking.

"Hello," he said weakly, holding out his peace offerings.

She took them and he followed her through to the tiny kitchen. It wasn't often that he'd been round to hers. It was easier to spend time at his where they could be truly alone, without Mary playing the awkward third wheel.

"Is Mary in bed?" he whispered.

"Yes," Anna replied. "She kept me company until I went to bed, but I still couldn't sleep."

"So she knows?"

"Of course she does. We tell each other everything."

"I suppose she hates me now."

"She did keep insisting that I go round and cut your balls off. I haven't discounted it completely yet."

He gave a dry snort. She gestured for him to sit at the table, pushing one of the coffees towards him and hooking a bagel out of the bag.

"Talk, John," she said.

And he did. He poured his soul into the conversation, finally spilling all about Vera, and about his fears. It was past dawn when he finished talking, his throat scratchy and hoarse, not even soothed by the second cup of coffee that he'd drunk made by Anna's fair hands. She stared at him unblinkingly while he petered out lamely. His whole world balanced on a knife's edge as he waited for her next words.

"Come on," she said softly. "Come to bed for a while. Forget about work for today. I'll skip uni. We're exhausted."

"So, we're not over?" he asked cautiously.

"We're not over," she said. "But, John, don't ever give me reason to doubt again."

"I won't," he said. He meant it with every fibre of his being.

She took his hand and pulled him along with her to her bedroom. Once there, she pushed him down and sat herself beside him. She cupped his face in the palms of her hands, pressing her forehead to his.

"You know what this is like?" she said. "Your coffee."

John frowned. "What?"

"Hear me out. You on your own are like a black coffee. It's strong and unfathomable, but that's it. I'm the milk. A black coffee on its own is all right, but when you put it together with the milk, it's perfect. It can do anything."

"I think that's the worst analogy I've ever heard," he said.

"I was trying to lighten the moment. And since you're an editor, I thought you might appreciate it."

"I suppose, as awful as it was."

"The point is, I love you," she murmured. "You've got to start trusting me completely. We're in this together now. You can't push me away. I don't care what Vera thinks she can throw at us. We can face whatever comes as long as we're together. I'm not frightened of her. We can overcome anything united, I can feel it in my bones. All right? You and me against the world."

He nodded, and she moved in to kiss him, lingering softly against him. His breath shuddered from him when they parted, and her fingers moved to the front of his shirt. It seemed that any fatigue had long been forgotten in the face of adversity.

When Mary walked in to find them snuggled up nose to nose dozing in a peaceful aftermath, she blinked and said, "Oh."

"Close the door, Mary," Anna said drowsily, burying her head against his chest.

"Um, you should have been long gone by now," Mary said, sounding uncomfortable.

"Know. Not going today."

"And Papa will be looking for you, John."

"Ring your papa for him."

"I'm _not_ doing his dirty work."

" _Please_ , Mary," Anna said, raising her head. "We've had a shit night."

"Looks like it," Mary said wryly.

"Take it seriously."

"I am. A few hours ago you were sobbing into your coffee and I was picking up the pieces. Now it appears that all has been forgotten."

John felt it was his time to step in. Awkward as he felt, he pulled the covers up as he turned to face her. "Forgiven, not forgotten. And I won't forget either. I fucked up. I will never make that mistake again."

Mary stared at him hard. "Good. Because whether you're Papa's best friend or not, Anna is _mine_. I'll have your bollocks hanging from the roof if you even think about screwing with her again."

"I'll hand them to you myself," John said solemnly.

"Right. Well. I'd best be off," said Mary. "I'll see you later, Anna, darling."

Anna hummed, and with that Mary closed the door behind her.

John slumped back down with a groan, rubbing a tired hand over his face. "Bloody hell, that was embarrassing."

"She knows I've not been living as a nun this past year. She knows more than she'd probably want to."

"Not reassuring," he said, pulling a face.

"Never mind that now. We need to get some rest. Then we can start to brainstorm our plan of attack."

"Plan of attack?"

"Yes, John. I told you: we're in this together now, for better or worse."

Hearing those words, part of the sacred wedding vows, stated with such fierce sincerity made John's heart swell. He held her as close as possible.

"I love you so much," he whispered into her hair.

They slept then. When they rose, past dinner, they found two now cold cups of coffee outside the door. It was Mary's seal of approval.

* * *

John was woken by the sudden dip of the mattress and Anna lurching out of his arms. He blinked blearily. It was light outside, but couldn't be much after dawn. Pushing his hair back from his eyes, he sat up and fumbled for a pair of pyjama bottoms. Anna hadn't even waited for that; she'd stumbled completely nude from the room. Seconds later he heard the toilet seat bang up, and the sounds of her emptying the non-existent contents of her stomach. Hurrying after her, he gritted his teeth as he braced himself against the sink and lowered himself onto his good knee beside her. He pulled her hair out of the way tenderly, nestling his warmth against her back as she heaved. When she was done, she slumped back against him.

"I'm sorry," she muttered.

He pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder. "Never apologise to me. You can't help it."

"You didn't need to get up with me. And you certainly shouldn't be on the floor."

"Let me worry about that. Do you need me to get anything?"

"A glass of water would be nice. I just need to clean my teeth."

He nodded, struggling back to his feet like an old man while Anna flushed the toilet and washed her hands. Her face was red, and her hair had gone limp with sweat. He loitered by the door until she was done, then helped her back to the bedroom. When she was wrapped in the duvet he pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek and left her there while he went downstairs. Shivering in the cool morning air, he set the coffee machine going while he poured Anna a glass of water. It was a Sunday morning. She would probably be able to grab an hour or so more sleep—at least, he hoped she would—but he was wide awake now. He'd take his time to enjoy his drink, perhaps pick up a few more chapters of his book while Anna snoozed.

When his coffee was ready, he took it and the glass of water back upstairs. Anna pushed herself into a sitting position when she saw him, though her face fell when she honed in on the mug he was carrying.

"Do you have to torture me with that this morning?" she whined.

He looked to the mug. "What? I'm thirsty."

"And I would kill for one of those right now, whether it sat well with me or not."

"I'll make you one if you like."

"No," she sighed.

"The doctor said you could have two hundred milligrams of caffeine a day," he pointed out, "which is equivalent to two cups of coffee."

"And I said that I wouldn't do it. I don't want to do anything that might jeopardise this baby."

Even now, two weeks on, those words still sounded so surreal. He and Anna were expecting their first child together. They'd been married eighteen months, and now they were expecting a baby together. What a hand of cards he'd been dealt. He was the luckiest bloke in the world. Unfortunately for Anna, pregnancy was having its downsides. She'd been sick every day for the past week, but he knew that she was struggling with having to cut down her coffee more than anything. During her studies, it had become the norm for her to drink endless cups a day, but now she had to go without for the sake of their child. Which he knew she would do without a second thought, but it still wouldn't be easy. He'd promised her that he would do the same so that she didn't have to go through it alone, but after their late night and now this early start, he found that he'd crumbled all too quickly.

Anna pouted as he slid into bed beside her. "God, that smells so good. You're so cruel, goading me with that."

"I'm not goading you with it," he protested. "I _am_ being weak."

"Men," she muttered.

"Yes, exactly. We men aren't strong enough to handle anything, that's why women were made so strong."

Anna took a long gulp of water. "Silly beggar."

"Well, it's true, isn't it? Men should take a leaf out of women's books more often."

"You don't need to charm me now, John Bates. You've done that already, remember?"

John snorted as she pointed to her stomach. He slipped his hand under the quilt and rested his palm over it. She wasn't showing much yet. Only a slight swell was the indication that another life was forming beneath his hand at that very moment. It certainly wasn't visible with clothes on, and was only noticeable to the naked eye if a person was looking for it. Since he was the only person who had seen her naked for a long time now, it would be a while before anyone else realised. They'd probably tell people before then. He knew that Anna wanted to work for as long as was possible, as was her right, but he was already anxious for her workplace to know so that they could begin to make adjustments. Perhaps they could give her some easier patients to deal with. Stress was not good for either of them, and already he could feel himself transforming into the fearsome daddy bear, ready to do anything to protect his little tribe.

Anna set her now empty glass on the bedside cabinet, snuggling back down under the covers.

"Come here," she said to him.

Draining the remaining dregs in his own mug, John did as he'd been bidden, snugging Anna close to him. She tilted her head back and kissed him sweetly. When he tried to pull away she wouldn't let him, stroking her hands down his sides while he shuddered.

"You taste so good," she said contentedly.

"Ah, now I understand," he said. "The coffee."

She hummed, trying to draw him closer. He kept her at bay with his hands on her hips.

"What's the matter?" she said.

"No offence, my darling, but I think I need to let a little time pass before I kiss you again…"

"Oh, charming," she giggled. "I'm carrying your child and this is how you treat me."

"I'm a terrible husband, I know," he murmured, pressing kisses to her neck. She sifted her fingers through his hair and tucked herself under his chin. It didn't take long for her breaths to even out against him. John pressed his smile to her hair, closing his own eyes in contentment. His reading could wait for a time. This, holding his wife and his baby in his arms, was far more important than that.

From now on, he supposed he ought to be more serious about showing solidarity. It was the last cup of coffee that he drank while she was pregnant—at least while he was in her presence.

What she didn't know couldn't hurt her, he decided shamefacedly on his way to work the following morning, mainstream coffee cup clutched firmly in his hand.

* * *

It was one of those mornings.

"Mum, where's my PE kit?"

"I don't know, Jack, you tell me!"

"Well, I don't know either! It's supposed to be in my drawer and it's not there!"

"It only goes in your drawer when it's been washed, and I haven't seen the bloody thing all weekend!"

"But why haven't you washed it!?"

"Because it's not been here _to_ wash! I told you, Jack, that if you want your clothes washing then you need to put them in the washing basket. You're old enough to do that! I've got enough on as it is without having to go around picking up after you all the time!"

"I _need_ my PE kit!"

"Tough! Until it mysteriously appears, I can't wash it. I suggest you have a look round for it when you get home tonight."

"I need it today, not tonight!"

"You should have thought about that before you decided to ignore what I asked! You'll have to take an old t-shirt and a pair of shorts just for today, and explain to your teacher why you're wearing something that isn't the uniform."

Jack sounded horrified. "I can't do that! Everyone will laugh at me!"

"Over a t-shirt? What kind of kids are people raising today?"

"I can't go to school now! You'll have to say I'm ill!"

"Over my dead body, John William Bates! Now get down here and get your breakfast! John! Sort out your son!"

John winced. The children were only ever his when something had gone wrong. Now, clad in just a towel and halfway through shaving, he was hardly in a fit state to be dishing out any kind of wise words. Still, what Anna wanted, Anna got. He'd never quite got the hang of resisting her.

"Mummy, Evie won't let me borrow a hair bobble! I want to tie my hair back but Evie is being mean!"

"Am not! Mummy, Mia never gives me them back, and they're _mine_!"

"Girls! Don't try my patience this morning or I swear to God…!"

John winced again as Anna's voice rose in pitch. Anna rarely lost her temper, but when she did, it was fearsome to behold. And definitely wise to avoid at all costs.

He finished shaving as quickly as possible and moved back into the bedroom to pull on his trousers. He didn't want to linger too long, or Anna would start to hound him about not rounding Jack up. Being in her bad books was something he could do with avoiding. He'd been in them before, and it was never fun for him. A sex ban was the last thing he wanted, and it was usually Anna's choice of weapon.

"Hey, mate," he said, ducking his head into his son's room. "How are you getting on?"

Jack was already dressed for school, his hair gelled smartly. He looked quite the little man standing in front of the mirror, and John felt a lump rising in his throat. His son was growing up so fast.

Currently, however, the pout on Jack's face was making him look like a small child all over again. "I really don't know where my PE kit is, Dad. And I can't go into school without it. Everyone will laugh at me."

"Your mum is right when she says that that just makes them not very nice boys and girls if they laugh at you just because you're wearing a different t-shirt for a day," John said reasonably. "Even if we find it now, if it's not been washed then you can't wear it today. We won't have you going to school looking like nobody owns you, son. It's good to take responsibility over our things. It wasn't much of Mum to ask you to make sure that you put your dirty things in the laundry basket. You're eight now. That's not too young to be putting your dirty washing out when you know it needs doing. Mum has enough on her plate looking after all of us when she's trying to work too. It's not her responsibility to find your PE bag when you were the one who put it down somewhere, especially on such short notice as this."

"I guess," Jack sighed.

"Where have you checked for it?"

"Everywhere, Dad. It's nowhere to be found!"

"Well, let's see if we can change that. You start in your wardrobe, I'll start in your window seat."

It turned up less than a minute later, under Jack's bed. It was uncomfortable to be on the floor, but John hooked it out, wincing as his knee twinged. He sat back up and dangled the bag from his index and middle fingers, waiting expectantly. Jack had the grace to look embarrassed.

"Oh," he said.

"Yes, oh," said John. "I think you'd better go downstairs and apologise to your mum."

Sheepishly, Jack skulked out of the room. John heaved a sigh of relief. That was one crisis averted, if not solved in the short term. He'd write a letter to Jack's teacher himself to let her know of the situation. They could get the kit sorted before it was needed again.

Satisfied that his work was done, John returned to his bedroom, pulling a shirt from the wardrobe and knotting a tie neatly around his neck. He had a meeting with Robert this morning. He'd pick Mia up after playgroup and spend the rest of the day working at home. It could be difficult to juggle so many children, but he and Anna always managed between the two of them. As an editor, he could be flexible about where he did his work, and Anna was only part time where she worked closely with the local veterans' charity. Yes, life was good.

Or almost always good. Hectic mornings like these could be draining before they'd even got started. He could hear the girls still squabbling, and Anna's fearsome voice as she shouted up that they'd better be downstairs in five seconds flat was enough to make him flinch. Thankfully, the girls were not foolish enough to disobey. John could hear them stampeding down the stairs, voices raised in indignation as they tried to get their points across. He thought it wise to linger upstairs for just a little longer until the madness had passed.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem to help him. Two minutes later, Anna was hollering for him angrily, and like his daughters, he felt it best not to ignore the call.

The kitchen looked like a madhouse. Breakfast things were strewn across every available surface, and Anna already looked frazzled. Jack was sitting moodily at the table and the girls were tugging at her pyjama bottoms, still bleating on about the hair bobbles.

"John, get the girls sat at the table now," she said crossly when she saw him. "And put some toast on for them. I'm trying to do a million things at once, and you're not doing a thing to help me."

"I was getting ready," he protested, moving over to the bread bin.

"Yes, and I'd like the opportunity to do that as well. I've not had a shower yet because I've been so busy making sandwiches for your children, and I've got an appointment at nine. I'm never going to be ready at this rate."

"You get in the shower then," he said. "I'll take over here."

"There's nothing to take over now. I've done everything. Again."

That was a little below the belt. John knew that she'd been struggling to sleep over the last few days, but he'd been helping as much as he always did. "That's unfair."

"Is it?" Anna's eyes flashed. "Who was up at six this morning making sure that everything was on course? Who's made four lots of packs ups? Who's started breakfast? All you've done is roll out of bed and head to the shower. I would've liked to have done that. I've not even had time for a cup of coffee yet. It's the highlight of my morning, just having five minutes to myself to have a drink and reflect on what I need to do for the day. It's the only thing that's even getting me through the bleedin' days at the minute."

"Then let me do it for you now," said John, standing. He hated arguing with Anna. He'd been working on his temper over the years that he had known her, and he'd made progress that even he could see. Keeping the waters smooth and nipping disagreements in the bud was always the way to go, and they usually did so well with that. The fact that they got along so well helped immensely, but it wasn't helping now.

"That's the _point_ ," she snapped. "I've already brewed it! You've not taken the initiative to do a single thing this morning. You've just left it all to me! I've done everything _myself_!"

Jack shot him a wary look and dived into his toast. Even the girls quietened. They never argued in front of the children, but it seemed that this morning Anna had reached a frightening boiling point. It seemed that he was too late to run for cover.

Huffing, Anna turned back on her heel. She grabbed the coffee pot from the machine and took a step towards the cupboard…

…And shrieked.

It happened in a split-second. One minute she was holding the pot. The next it had flown out of her hands, shards of glass flying in every direction, coffee arcing and splattering. The kids screamed. Anna yelped a loud expletive that she would have told him off about under other circumstances.

"Anna!" John scrambled towards her at once, picking his way through the shards of glass so he could sweep her into his arms. "What happened!?"

"The bloody cat happened!" she said, holding a hand over her heart. John glanced behind him to find Muffin peeping contritely from behind the door. The kitten was as a quick as a flash and always underfoot.

"Is she all right?" Jack cried.

"She's all right," Anna reassured him. "She was well away before the pot hit the floor."

"What about you?" said John, pushing hair from her face. "Did you burn yourself? Cut yourself?"

"No," she said. "I'm all right."

"I fetch a brush," said Mia, beginning to slide from her seat.

"No, stay right where you are," said John sternly. "We don't want any of you to hurt yourselves. Finish eating your breakfast and don't move from that spot. I'll get this mess cleaned up."

"I'll do it," said Anna half-heartedly. "It's my mess."

He brought her close and kissed her forehead, lingering. "Don't be silly. You do what you need to do. It's my time to do something for you."

"I shouldn't have said what I said," she replied, shame-faced. "You do so much for all of us. I don't know what came over me."

"Happens to the best of us," he promised her. "As long as you're all right."

"I am," she said. "I'm sorry, Jack, Evie, Mia. Mummy shouldn't have shouted like that."

"It's okay," said Jack. "I should have put my PE kit in the wash like you asked me too."

"We love you, Mummy!" Evie squealed.

"Lots and lots!" Mia added happily.

There were tears in Anna's eyes as she moved in to kiss all three of her children. She returned to give John a kiss too, and he patted her backside gently as she passed. She narrowed her eyes at him, but this time it was playful. Through some miracle, rather than making things worse, the breakage had diffused the tension entirely.

"I'll make you another coffee," he said.

"No," she said absently. "It's all right. Maybe a tea. Decaf."

John frowned at that.

She came home that evening with a pregnancy test in her handbag. John's heart leapt in his chest when she showed it to him, and when the children had been put to bed they waited anxiously to see if it would change their lives once more.

The little stick showed two blue lines, and the doctor confirmed it.

And Anna had to go another nine months without proper coffee. But, when they held little Max in their arms for the first time, John knew she would do it again a thousand times over if this was the end result.

They'd _both_ do it all over again if this was the end result.

* * *

All was quiet in the Bates household, exactly how John had planned. The children were lost to dreamland, and Anna lay with her back pressed to his chest, tucked seamlessly against him. He glanced at the clock on the side of his bed. A quarter to seven. It was perfect.

He carefully disentangled himself from his wife, and he leaned across to ghost a kiss across her forehead. She didn't even stir as he pushed back the covers and slipped out of bed. He reached for his dressing gown and tied it loosely around his waist, then toed on his slippers. Shuffling from the room as quietly as he could, he tiptoed down the stairs. Muffin was in the sitting room when he passed. She must have wanted to leave Jack's room in the night, and had made her new bed on the settee when she couldn't get back in. She looked at him sleepily for a moment before laying her head back on her paws. Apparently it was too early even for her.

In the kitchen, John bustled around brewing a pot of fresh coffee. It would be just the ticket for his Anna, and spoiling her for the day began right here. Breakfast would come later when the children got up, but he could think of a few things that they could be doing while they waited for that. He couldn't stop the grin that overtook his face at the thought. Ten years of marriage, and he still wanted her the same as he had when they had first met. He could live to be a hundred, and his opinion would never change. He just might need a little help at that point.

Shaking his head, he pulled Anna's favourite mug from the cupboard and filled it to the brim. Satisfied that it had been made to perfection, he carried it carefully out of the room and back up the stairs towards their bedroom.

Anna hadn't moved in the time that he had been gone. He took a moment to drink in the sight of her. She looked so peaceful, and he felt rather guilty about disturbing her, but he knew he wouldn't get another chance to get her alone all day with four exuberant children underfoot.

Tentatively climbing onto the bed, he reached out to touch her shoulder.

"Wake up, sleepy head," he murmured. She stirred immediately at his touch. He smiled as Anna groaned and rolled over, burying her head under the pillow.

"What time is it?" he heard her ask in a muffled voice.

"Just gone seven," he said.

"Seven!? Bleedin' hell, John, it's _not_ the right time to get me up!"

"It's the perfect time!" he argued cheerfully. "It's a Sunday morning, the kids are still in bed and will be for at least another hour, and it's our anniversary." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her back.

"So you've got me up at this hour to get your leg over?"

"Well, that and to wish you a happy anniversary, of course. Who knows if we'll get the chance tonight?"

"Who says your chances are any higher when you put me in a bad mood first off?"

"Well, maybe I can change that."

"Oh yes? How are you going to manage that?"

Grinning, he set the mug of coffee down on her bedside table, waiting for the fumes to work their magic. It didn't take long; seconds later, Anna's sleepy eyes appeared from behind the pillow, and she sniffed the air like a bloodhound.

"Coffee," she said.

"Just how you like it," he said. "A little bit of cream and no sugar, the perfect antidote to early mornings."

"I hate that you know the way to my heart so quickly," she said, sitting up and reaching for the mug. He chuckled, shuffling back under the covers beside her and sitting up against the headboard. He motioned for her to duck under his arm, and she did so, settling her head against his chest.

"You love me really," he said.

"Madly," she murmured, taking her first sip. Her sigh of contentment was music to his ears. He pressed a kiss to her hair, breathing in the musk of her skin and the rich coffee smell.

He was sure that soon enough the empty mug would be set aside for more pleasurable antics, but for now the peace continued to reign. This, he thought happily, this was what life was all about: forgetting about the pressures of the day for a brief spell, taking the time to savour every quiet moment.

Enjoying a peaceful coffee morning with his perfect coffee mate.


End file.
